


Our Underworld

by dirtyretro



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Magical Realism, Mythology References, On Hiatus, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-03-27 22:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13890126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtyretro/pseuds/dirtyretro
Summary: On October 6, 1994, the bright energy of the goddess once known to the ancients as Persephone entered its newest host, Lee Jooheon.Alternatively, a modern (gay) retelling of the story of Hades and Persephone with a dark twist.





	Our Underworld

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silentterror](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentterror/gifts).



A goddess of floral growth, of new beginnings and fertility, of the beauty of springtime—her name was Persephone, and she was as beautiful as her name alluded. Daughter of Demeter, goddess of the harvest, Persephone often accompanied her mother to the fields, scampering about the high grass with a giggle and a lilt in her step. In ancient times, her youthful beauty and bountiful energy embellished hillsides in malachite green, a rainbow of flowers blooming aplenty in Apollo’s nourishing sunshine. Known by all as compassionate and joyful, she captivated even those forlorn, charming a smile onto the faces of those who could never appreciate her full, youthful radiance.

Contrary to human belief, gods and goddesses were not immortal. The illusion of immortality survived through the fortitude of their energies. Law of Conservation of Energy stated energy could neither be created nor destroyed, simply recycled. As such, energy was reborn into a new soul upon birth: the exact moment the previous host perished, the energy entered a new life.

On October 6, 1994, the bright energy of the goddess once known to the ancients as Persephone entered its newest host, Lee Jooheon.

Several others like him were born anew, but not all humans were born of ancient energy. Not all were caged by their unchosen destiny.

And human life progressed just as time did. Humans documented their shortcomings and triumphs in boring textbooks students groaned at in the apex of a day. Skyscrapers erected and coffee shops drew in crowds, humans never noticing the uselessness of either invention in the grandness of time.

+

Jooheon smiled to himself as he walked down a busy Seoul sidewalk, thumbs looped under the straps of his backpack as he embraced the insignificance of an iced caffè latte on this sunny spring day. He was meeting his friend Kihyun, a botanist who worked weird hours in a weird part of town. They didn’t often meet up during weekdays, but today Jooheon was also in a weird part of town, so meeting for coffee in a cafe emblazoned with a roaring tiger on the storefront wasn’t too far-fetched.

Kihyun was a foodie who sought local cafes for five-star experiences, so the roaring tiger cafe was a pleasure owed entirely to him. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee was robust, though, and the pecan maple Danish pastry wasn’t too bad either. _Feisty Tiger Coffee,_ they called themselves. Judging by the chatter, they did quite well for themselves.

After Jooheon ordered his iced caffè latte, he claimed a two-seater table at the front by the door so Kihyun wouldn’t have to look for him long. Sunshine beamed in through the glass storefront, casting technicolor shapes on the tablecloth like shadow theater. Distracted by the complex story the sunshine told, Jooheon found himself inextricably lost in the plot, aloof when greeted by Kihyun.

“Oh, hey!” he welcomed with a bright smile.

Kihyun cocked his head. “What are you doing?”

“Watching shadow puppets?” Jooheon replied in the form of a question, like he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was doing either. Sometimes he got too caught up in the small details of everyday life and forgot the key points of a day—something he figured Kihyun did the opposite of. Not everyone appreciated the beauty of menial happenings.

“ _Right..._ Well, how’d work go?” Kihyun asked. He set his expensive, leather briefcase on the floor beside his chair. This seemed to be his first break of the day judging by how tensely he carried himself.

Jooheon cleared his throat. What was the most _succinct_ way to describe a day of teaching kindergarteners? “Yuna, the girl with the pigtails? The one I keep saying is probably a sea nymph? She overwatered her plant. She cried because it was sad-looking, so I told her love was all it needed… and I sort of resurrected it… and made it bloom…”

“In other words, you taught a child that her actions don’t have consequences?” Kihyun replied matter-of-factly as he stirred a packet of Splenda into his hot Americano.

“She’s four, Kihyun. No need to bring down the hammer of justice.” Jooheon laughed.

“Mmm…” Kihyun sipped his hot beverage. “She’ll grown into her colors soon then, huh?”

A small detail but crucial about those with ancient energy was the color of their irises. Not the base color, not brown or blue or hazel, but the specks of unnatural color embedded _in_ the brown or blue or hazel. In those who fully embraced who they were, the ancient color overpowered drab, human color, casting the illusion of unmistakably _fake_ eyes. In those who hid their identities, this obvious tell could be covered by colored contact lenses.

Jooheon’s eyes were brown with lilac specks—distinct upon first glance. In the afternoon sun, he had the most hypnotizing lavender gaze. Others, like Kihyun, who worked high-paying, steady jobs where regular humans blamed his _aptitude_ with plants on his _ancient proclivity_ often chose to hide themselves. Beneath dark brown lenses were metallic mint green specks embedded in honey-brown irises; beneath that well-tailored suit was the raw form of earth’s rich bounty.

Between Jooheon and Kihyun existed the eternal bond of Persephone and Demeter.

“You’re _that_ convinced she’s a sea nymph?” Kihyun asked, flicking another Splenda packet before sprinkling the contents into his beverage.

Jooheon shrugged. “Well, she _is_ Hyunwoo’s youngest cousin…”

A man of great wealth and admired power who notoriously toiled in a gruesome workforce and climbed his way up the proverbial ladder of success to become the CEO he was today. A man who revolutionized maritime transport of consumer goods while conserving the world’s oceans. In ancient times, they called him Poseidon, god of the sea and other waters, of earthquakes, and of horses. Now, he went by Son Hyunwoo, CEO and playboy extraordinaire.

Kihyun dramatically rolled his eyes.

A few years back, Hyunwoo and Kihyun had a _thing._

 _“Ugh,_ I don’t want to hear about Hyunwoo,” Kihyun sneered.

It didn’t work out.

“Be careful what you say… you never know when Anteros will strike…” Jooheon teased, citing the god of requited love.

Kihyun sighed and checked the time on his watch. Damn, it felt like his break just started, yet now he had to get back to work. He gulped down the remainder of his coffee. “I need to head back. We still on for tonight?”

Jooheon grinned, scooping up whipped cream from his cafe latte with the tip of his straw. “Yeah! Catch you later!”

+

The edifice of Club Olympus was built of meticulous masonry, cream-colored stone fixed with bronze, creating an intricate temple with unmatched grace. Leafy green vines sprouted from fine cracks in the stone, snaking up to mingle with the ancient Greek pantheon etched into the architrave. Stone columns lined the face of the club like infantrymen, sturdy and looming; floral decorations and triglyphs adorned the capital of each column.

Club Olympus was modern homage to Greek architecture reminiscent of ancient designs.  

The mosaic pathway leading to the entrance was a sea of emerald, garnet, and opal, sweeping guests away into a sanctuary of rich beauty and foliage. Lattice walls framed the enclave, stitched with pink peonies, maroon hellebores, and yellow narcissuses. Their fragrance was fresh and inviting. Each angle of mosaiced gemstone shimmered in the light of two flowing fountains on either side of the entryway. In the heart of each foundation was a marble statue—one of the mighty Zeus and the other of fiery Hades. Golden light filtered through the foundation water, illuminating the gods in a righteous glow.

A muscular bouncer guarded the entrance with a stern frown and folded arms. Club Olympus was an elite club that required a waitlist, as it reached maximum capacity early in the night.

Beyond the hindrance to enter, a world of mystery and grandiose and whimsy enraptured guests from their first footstep.

+

Lo-fi hip hop flooded their eardrums as Jooheon and Kihyun walked into Club Olympus. Clubgoers sensually swayed to the chill beats, their hips locked together in exquisite passion as they moved to the music. Sex animated every movement, arousing newcomers swiftly, passionately, until lust for another itched underneath their very skin. The smell of earthy amber wafted through the air hot from body heat as incense smoke skimmed the top of the crowd.

When Jooheon walked through the masses, they spared a lingering eye. The arousal dusting their cheeks pink made Jooheon swallow hard, self-conscious but excited by the eyes watching him. The constant attention prickled heat up his skin and stirred excitement in his loins. The crowd couldn’t tear their gaze from him—everyone was entranced by his glorious lilac aura.

In the height of springtime, Jooheon’s hair was a rich lavender that brought out the purple flecks in his irises. His skin was radiant, alive with the spirit of spring, but never as radiant as his smile. Dressed in an oversized button-up shirt with bright pink flamingos and bushy green palm trees contrasted against a mute magenta and turquoise background. Tight, black denim pants with holes ripped at the knees and matte black Doc Martens, Jooheon knew he looked like a damn snack.

He was the embodiment of a springtime god; his youthful beauty was undeniable.  

Kihyun embodied motherly energy balanced flawlessly by gentlemanly masculinity. He wore green and white striped suspenders atop a muted rose colored button up shirt. The sleeves were folded and cuffed neatly at his elbows, revealing the pop of green fabric on the inverse of the shirt. His tight-fitting blue jeans were ripped at the knees and made to look fancier than they were by a sleek belt. Like Jooheon, Kihyun wore Doc Martens, but his were a glossy blood red.

His muted pink aura wasn’t as enthralling as Jooheon’s aura, but he casted a steady, nurturing glow. His earthy energy felt safe and comfortable, like no matter the hardship his unique compassion would never fail. He didn’t attract a lustful look, he stole the attention of those who craved stability, intimacy, domesticity.

Kihyun was the cure for indefinite loneliness, but lonely people seldom reached out for the comfort they craved.

They took seats at the neon-lit bar, where Jooheon ordered a sweet drink, something tropical and citrusy with a mini umbrella embellishment. Kihyun, having a different flavor palate, ordered a whiskey sour with a bitter dark cherry. It was standard protocol to loiter at the bar, mindlessly chatting amongst themselves while occasionally eying any pretty face that wandered by. Neither of them were particularly suave or courageous, so they often resorted to anchoring themselves in their seats despite the presence of a good catch.

This time, however, perhaps persuaded by his bitter memory of Son Hyunwoo from his earlier cafe conversation with Jooheon, or maybe it was just the alcohol, Kihyun’s shimmery eyes locked onto a pretty girl with wavy black hair that curled around her ears. He swallowed his nerves, and as such, had abandoned Jooheon at the bar.

Jooheon sat in a cramped, introverted posture with his chin in his palm stirring his libation with a mini umbrella. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he only went for other gods and goddesses—mortals simply weren't enthralling enough to date, and they could never understand his innate desire to fulfill his ancient whims.

 

Up above the sea of surging people, club co-owner Hoseok sat in a unique, handcrafted throne embellished in gold and crushed velvet nestled in the balcony VIP lounge. With his legs crossed, he slouched in the chair as he held a cigarette to his lips. The smoke rippled through the air, blending into fragrant smoke emitted by the large incense stick in the corner of the lounge.

Changkyun, bearer of Zeus, god of the sky and all Olympian gods, people-watched from the edge of the VIP balcony. Fingers curled around the intricate detail of the railing, he studied the movement of the crowd. He gleamed—the ambrosia pumped into the air supply stupefied the clubgoers to his liking. As a strict businessman who offered employment to down-and-out pretty faces, potential new recruits who took well to ambrosia were well on their way.  

“You’re a _pimp,_ Changkyun. Just call it what it is.”

Changkyun whirled around, cigarette pinned between his lips, orange eyes glimmering. “And you’re a motherfucker, Hoseok, but I don’t tell you who you are.”

Shin Hoseok also was a strict businessman. Changkyun and Hoseok co-owned Club Olympus, but Hoseok yielded authority over the underground atmosphere affectionately nicknamed _Underworld_ by frequent guests. Underworld married elements of dark marble architecture and jewel tone accents to birth a classy bondage dungeon atmosphere. The environment was very come-as-you-are, though the drugs probably helped with that.

 _“Whoa_ , why don’t you pop one of those muscle relaxers and chill out?” Hoseok replied with a shit-eating grin. He adjusted his electric blue hair in the mirror and plucked a loose strand off his black brocade blazer.

“Already took five,” Changkyun sneered. “You know the drugs don’t affect _us_ like it does _them.”_

Hoseok’s golden irises dazzled under shine of the ruby chandelier of the upper level VIP lounge he and Changkyun observed clubgoers from. “Fuckin’ shame, isn’t it?” he muttered, eyes transfixed to the pulse of the crowd below.

Through the sheer, lazuli curtains of the lounge, he spotted Jooheon, or rather the man’s distinct lilac aura that glowed around him like a halo. He ashed his cigarette in the dark marble ashtray with one finger. “Who’s that?”

“Don’t know,” Changkyun replied, half interested as he sat upon his gaudy gold throne.

Hoseok curled his lips into a smirk. “Aren’t you supposed to be all-knowing?”

“Sure,” Changkyun replied, this time completely devoid of interest.

A beautiful human woman scantily dressed in draped red velvet crawled over to Changkyun. She trailed a hand up his leather pant leg before resting her cheek on his thigh, softly mewling for attention. Looking up through thick, dark lashes, she bit her red bottom lip. Changkyun pet her affectionately on the head but didn’t bother to meet her gaze.

Another gorgeous woman with auburn hair pouted at the lack of attention _she_ was receiving, so she crawled onto Changkyun’s lap and straddled him, kittenishly rolling her hips into his as she eyed him. The woman in red sat back, offended at the other woman’s advances. Together, they bickered over Changkyun’s attention with slurred speech and dilated pupils.

Sluts were still sluts regardless of the drugs pumped into their bloodstream.

Hoseok rose to his feet, unaffected by the jealous banter. “You’re useless,” he drawled, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. He eyed Jooheon at the bar through the sheer curtains like a hungry predator awaiting the perfect opportunity to pounce.

Electric blue hair against a stark black and white canvas, Hoseok was a magnificent sight to behold. The god of the Underworld wore a tight-fitting, white crew neck that stretched around his muscular arms at the sleeves. Black leather straps looped around his broad shoulders and crossed into an X at his shoulder blades, silver d-rings dangling from random eyelets in the leather. Black leather pants as tight-fitting as his shirt stretched over thick thighs, vanishing into calf-high black combat boots. A black belt with a silver, rectangular buckle that matched the several buckles on his boots completed the look.

He looked like the danger he wreaked.

And at the club, Hoseok was the keeper and the enforcer of havoc.

Together, he and Changkyun reigned over the human world by uniting the ancient energies of the Olympic pantheon and the Underworld in the form of one enchanting nightclub.

As such, anything Hoseok wanted, _he got._

And he wanted the beautiful boy at the bar with the lilac aura.

 

Back down at the bar, Jooheon chugged down his fourth mixed drink of the night. When he slammed the empty glass on the bartop, he threw his head back. It was then he realized how blurry his vision was. Shit, the bartender was heavy-handed.

Jooheon should’ve knew better; he was a lightweight, after all.

In his drunken reverie, he spotted a pretty woman in a marvelous flower crown out the corner of his eye. Long, flowing hair, alabaster skin, shapely figure—all features that rivaled Aphrodite. The flowers, too, were remarkable; so vibrant and lively they looked real. He could almost smell their fragrance from across Club Olympus. It was true he was hypersensitive to the bounty of springtime, flowers were no exception, but he was inexplicably drawn to the woman because of the type of flowers she donned—multicolored narcissuses.

His favorite.

She, too, stared from across the club with a sultry look. She wasn’t mortal, but she didn’t emit goddess energy either. The ambiguity of her identity appealed to Jooheon. Whoever she was, she’d been scouting him for a while. No doubt she knew the effect of the narcissuses she wore atop her head. With a flirty grin, she sauntered through the cluster of people on the dance floor, the crowd parting around her like she was the staff of Moses itself.

Was she a muse? A siren? A nymph? A meliae? She was absolutely stunning.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but the narcissuses were glowing. They beckoned him to touch them with an ancient, nurturing caress.

“Tell me how someone as handsome as you is sitting alone at a bar.” She occupied the barstool and swiveled towards Jooheon, placing her manicured hand on his thigh. A strand of hair fell in her face, so she tucked it behind her ear and batted her lashes.

Damn, she was smooth. _Definitely a siren._

“Uh, can I… Can I buy you a drink?” Jooheon asked, enamored by her amazing beauty and vivid flower crown.

With a charming smile, she said, “I’d love nothing more.”

The siren called over the bartender and ordered a Bloody Mary with gin. Kihyun had a theory that how people took their coffee and their prefered cocktails granted insight into that person’s mind. Jooheon was partial to sweet, fruity drinks and sweet, creamy coffee, which probably lended to his sweet, soft nature. He couldn’t help but wonder that a woman who ordered a Bloody Mary with gin was an intelligent, classic femme fatale; she probably took her coffee black, too, he assumed.

Didn’t take long for one drink to become two, or for stiff conversation to become loose and flexible. Jooheon figured a siren to be captivating, but her conversational skills were as unmatched as her beauty. He was hopelessly riveted like a fool in love. She beckoned him closer, closer until her body heat caressed his skin and kissing her lips became his sole desire.

And kiss they did. Tenderly, sweet with savory alcohol stimulating their taste buds until Jooheon got lost in it all.

After, a sort of dreamlike, altered state of consciousness left his brain foggy. He blinked several times to adjust his focus, but alas his vision was hazy and his surroundings were indistinguishable. Was he still at the bar? No, they danced—he’d never forget the sway of her body against his; after he finished his second drink with the siren, his sixth overall, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him onto the dancefloor.

Pieces of the night’s events came back to Jooheon as he forced himself to remember. God, they _just_ kissed, didn’t they? Not but a second ago? He could still feel her soft lips against his own, her floral taste intoxicating and sweet. He touched his fingers to his lips, feeling the residual tingle. His body felt hot, damp, and he _yearned_ for the touch of another.

What happened? Did the siren drug him?

Sensory overload blocked his recollection. His head throbbed at the temples. He felt people bump into him, yet the touch was dull; he heard music, yet the sound was muffled. Was he still in the crowd on the dancefloor? He needed to sit down...

Off in the distance, he saw _her_ —the gorgeous siren in the crown of narcissuses; there, leaning against a wall like she was the first time he’d laid eyes on her. The colorful lighting of the club blurred around her like a Van Gogh painting, yet her allure was not outshined by the whimsy.

Jooheon sighed in relief, happy to have found her. The moment he blinked, she vanished, appearing intermittently like a character in an animation flipbook. He snaked through the cluster of people as he followed her. One moment, she appeared by the bar. Another, she was at the edge of the dancefloor. Everytime he blinked, she popped up in a different place.

He was never any good at hide and seek, but for her he’d try.

When he was finally free of the crowd, he spotted her at the mouth of a wide hallway. How odd… Was that a new addition or had that always been there? It didn’t look familiar… He reached out for her despite his impairment, but she only offered a parting smile before dashing down the hallway.

Where did the hallway lead to? Was she taking him somewhere?  

Jooheon stumbled to an adjacent lacquered wall, palms bracing him as he slumped against it with a thud. His feet felt heavy, his muscles lethargic, cognition sluggish. If eyes were glued to him, amused by his drunken stupor, he didn’t notice. In fact, he didn’t notice anything other than that mysterious hallway that sparkled like a kaleidoscope in his hazy vision. How could he have never noticed it before? Something prismatic and alluring surely would’ve caught his eye…

 _Ah,_ his temples throbbed. His lips tingled. Alcohol never made him feel so languid… Colors and sensations meshed together, triggering an endorphin rush. He melted into the wall, overwhelmed by the synesthesia of his rush. The hallway, it smelled like freshly cut narcissuses… Was he hallucinating? No, they looked real...

Were his drinks spiked?

Did the siren do this to him?

Ogling the mystery hallway, Jooheon’s curiosity got the better of him. He pushed himself off the wall and ventured towards the dark path with sluggish feet. The closer he got to it, the greater the intensity of his synesthesia. The colors, the vibrations, the smells were like a psychedelic dream.

When he entered the mouth of the hall, it was then he observed its classic arched tunnel architecture. Pristine marble as white as Club Olympus’s exterior peeked through a wire lattice of rare topaz narcissus flowers. Their color was magnificent—something Jooheon had never seen before, not even in storybooks.

Was it the trippy effects he was feeling, or was he truly witnessing such a splendid creation?

But there at the end of the hallway was the rarest, most splendid of them all: a single ruby narcissus.

He foolishly darted into the mysterious hallway in pursuit of the rare flower. Wow, it was even more beautiful up close; it’s delicate petals dotted with orange, it’s leaves an emerald green. To pluck such a magnificent flower because of its unique beauty would mean to uproot it from the soil from whence it _became_ magnificent and unique. To kill something beautiful just to cherish it as his own was selfish, he knew that, but he was selfish enough in his current altered state not to care.

Reaching out with greedy fingers, Jooheon gently clasped the stem so as to not bruise the petals and plucked the red narcissus from its spot amongst the sea of topaz others.

He pulled and pulled and pulled until he collapsed to the ground, finally uprooting the flower before falling to the floor unconscious.

+

The walls whistled like a seaside wind in Jooheon’s ears when he awoke.

Eyelids fluttered open to reveal a dark, foreign room illuminated only by candlelight. The candles smelled earthy, comforting, like midnight rain, and it stirred him from his daze. He registered the fact that he was kneeling due to stable pressure on his knees; his torso was slumped forward as his arms hung heavy in his lap. He shifted slightly, groaning at the soreness of his limbs. He felt like he’d been in a coma for ten years and was only now moving his body.

When Jooheon’s vision cleared enough to discern an actual silhouette in front of him, his jaw clenched. Blinking a few times, the silhouette became clearer, sharper in his vision—it was a man with his arms crossed sitting upon an elaborate ebony throne. Proud, menacing body language. Someone of authority. Someone handsome.

Somehow, Jooheon _instinctively_ knew who the man was.

He swallowed hard, throat dry. “...you’re Hades.”

“In this form I go by Hoseok, but what is a name but a superficial term of identity?” Hoseok tilted his head, pointer finger tracing over the angle of his chin as he regarded Jooheon. “And who are you, beautiful?”

He was met with silence.

“Don’t be difficult. I can feel your ancient energy,” Hoseok tsked, temperament calm though the vigor of a dancing flame raged inside him. Hades was a man of supreme power; his energy could be _felt_ by anyone in his presence. The hairs on Jooheon’s arm stood on end.

Jooheon’s reply came in the form of an action. His lilac irises sparkling, he channeled the ancient energy of Persephone to heal a dozen wilted roses in a glass vase next to Hoseok’s throne. A shriveled, drooped rose turned bright red as his ancient power resurrected it, breathing life into its velvety petals and replenishing its withered buds. Just as one rose surged to life, another followed until all twelve bloomed into a vivid red bouquet.

 _“...Persephone.”_ Hoseok’s eyebrows lifted with interest as he caressed a delicate petal of a resurrected rose. It was so vibrant, so healthy. Never had something so lovely existed in his dark underworld. “No wonder. I’ve wanted you for centuries. You’re so elusive, love.”

Jooheon grimaced, changing the subject. “Did you drug me?”

Jooheon followed Hoseok’s gaze as it drifted over the room and settled upon a grand vase of multicolored naricusses identical to the flower crown worn by the siren. His heart plummeted into his stomach as understanding dawned on him. Were his drinks laced with narcissus nectar? Narcissuses were infamously known to be _fatal_ when consumed.

“They’re toxic!” Jooheon exclaimed, nausea suddenly washing over him like a tidal wave. His breath picked up. His pulse raced. The survival instinct to vomit up remaining narcissus toxin overwhelmed him.

Hoseok chuckled. “They’re also hallucinogenic… You’re a god, well, _goddess._ I knew you’d survive.”

Jooheon scowled, pushing through the stiffness in his limbs—likely minor paralysis—and forcing himself to his feet. “You can’t just play with my life like that! I don’t even know you!” he yelled, voice hoarse.

“But you do,” Hoseok lilted. He selected a singular rose from the newly-revived bouquet, thumb running over a torn to revel in the sharp sensation.

Jooheon wobbled as he struggled to find stable ground. He held his head in his hand, wincing at the ache in his body. “I don’t _want_ to know you… your reputation certain precedes you, Hades.”

“Happy to hear that.” Hoseok smiled. He cupped the rose bloom in the flat of his palm.

Jooheon observed his surroundings, allowing silence to befall them. Strangely, he didn’t feel unsafe in Hades—er, Hoseok’s presence. The room, though visually unfamiliar, seemed unremarkable. The design was akin to Club Olympus, just darker and peculiarly melancholy.

Finally, he spoke, “What do you want with me?”

Hoseok’s smile widened. “I want _you,”_ he replied, clenching his hand around the delicate rose bloom and pulling the stem, crushing the petals and ripping them off the bulbous hip. He tossed the thorny stem to the floor. Then, slowly he unfurled his hand, the bright red petals cascading onto the floor.

A small droplet of blood landed on a fallen petal, and Jooheon looked up to see Hoseok lick the coppery substance off his thumb.

+

Kihyun had spent forty-two minutes waiting for Jooheon at the bar. By 1AM the bartender had announced the last call and most people tapered out of the club. Kihyun and Jooheon never usually stayed this late when they went out, and they spent most of the evening together at the bar. This time however, they were branching out, exploring themselves by exploring other people and shaking up their predictable routine, but Jooheon’s prolonged absence was suspicious. It was possible he had gone home with someone, but he wasn’t the one night stand type.

Kihyun’s intuition wrung his stomach with worry. It didn’t take long for his motherly instincts to hijack his better judgement. Logic be damned, something was _off._

Concerned, he frantically searched for Jooheon in the club. A calm search escalated into a full blown panic. He reassured himself that Jooheon was a grown adult man who could take care of himself. Besides, he was single and lonely and probably set his opinions on hook-up culture aside in favor of actually hooking up.

Regardless, deep down a small voice shouted at Kihyun that something wasn’t right.

“Is something wrong?”

_Huh? How oddly clairvoyant…_

Kihyun spun around to see a tall man with sapphire hair and orange eyes staring at him. A man of ancient power, that much was apparent, but he was magnificent in a way Kihyun couldn’t comprehend. The man carried himself with regality; his gaze was sure and unfaltering. His citrine aura vibrated wildly around him, enticing Kihyun with the sheer awe it induced.

“...I’m looking for my friend,” Kihyun replied, skepticism in his tone. Intuition told him the man was not to be trusted, that the man was important—that the man was borne of Cronos.

With a charming smile, the man said, “I hope you find him… be sure to look in all the places you cannot see.”

He left down a strange, winding hallway Kihyun could’ve swore he’d never seen before.

 


End file.
